Where the Lines Overlap
by saradelovely
Summary: HIATUS
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: For those of you who are reading this now, I have recently removed all 26 chapters of this story. Currently, I am re-writing every single chapter. That is all.

It was cloudy the day Rachel put her hand on Puck's shoulder and suggested a friendship of sorts. She's unsure why she suggested friendship as a peace offering, an olive branch. They weren't friends before, and they weren't going to be friends after. They haven't been friends in the longest time, not since prior to their arrival at high school. He shrugs off her hand, and admits it as such, there will be _no _friendship, walking off the bleachers, as she watches him go for the second time that day. He slushies her for years without a second thought, and he cost Rachel a fortune in dry cleaning bills. He likes to make fun of her knee socks, and the compulsion she has with Kit Kat bars, and she's still am at a loss for words for the fact they were dating, or dated. She has to learn to stop using the current tense, They're in the past tense now, They're over over over. Regretfully, she thinks, over much like they were before.

Rachel cradles her head in her hands and waited for the hurt to subside, and she must have waited long enough, because it was dark when she looked up and Finn was sitting in the open seat next to her. They didn't say anything, even though she felt the wheels in his head turn, and he was trying to think.

Come on, he said. I'll give you a ride home.

Wordlessly, she stands, ignoring her wobbly knees and grabs his hand for something to hold on to. He traces the inside of her palm in circular motions with his fingers but she doesn't feel anything at all. She had wanted Finn for so long, and now here he appears, playing the lead in her life again, but she doesn't, she doesn't feel anything at all. Rachel ignores the curious glances out of the corner of his eye, and they don't talk on the drive home, not until she offers words of thanks, and leaves the vehicle, stumbling home and leaning against the front door.

Her dads are out of town for the weekend, so she's in no rush to move from the floor. The tiles feel cool against her bare legs and she's cold, but it's less from the house than from inside her heart. She begins to convince herself Noah and her would have broken up, anyway. With or without Finn breaking up with Quinn when it turned out she wasn't pregnant anymore.

One thing had nothing to do with the other. Her and Noah were too different, they were incompatible on every level. He hadn't been to a math class in two years, and she found safety in numbers, knowing the end result would always be the same, there would be no surprises. He joined Glee for the cougars, she joined because she had finally found a place to fit in. She had five and ten and twenty year plans, outlining her life and she doesn't think he knows what he's doing tomorrow, much less in five years. Rachel needed someone with plans and outlines, and he wasn't even on her list.

She would sit there all night and make excuses for why Noah and her shouldn't be together, but it didn't help to change anything. They had only been dating a week, and he knew how she enjoyed her coffee. Milk and four sugars, nor was she a fan of breakfast. He knew 'Wicked' was her favorite musical, and that she would turn a lesbian for Megan Fox. He knew more things, and she doesn't even know how he knew anything. They had been together a week.

(Their prior time spent together was of no relevance)

It was only when she made her move off the floor when she realized she was still wearing his oversized sweater, the one he gave this morning when he saw her flimsy attire and mocked her for not checking the weather. He was the one who tugged it over her small body, watching it cover her shirt and skirt, smirked and said she should wear his clothes, and nothing else, more often. It was her and his sweater, and the knee socks. He planted a kiss on Rachel's lips, like they've been doing this all along, and she watched him saunter off, not realizing it'd be their last kiss.

It was only then Rachel began to cry.


	2. Chapter 2

**Puck will be told in first person narrative. Once again, as mentioned before, I did delete all the previous chapters (don't even ask why, I got into a fit and deleted everything)**

* * *

She dumped me. _She_ dumped _me_. Rachel _Freakin'_ Berry. Really. This may or may not top the time Santana broke up with me in the hallway, muttering about credit scores and ratings, and financial support. I don't know what these females want from me. I'm sixteen and I need money for dip and stuff AND find money to slushie Berry on a daily basis. The pool money can only stretch so far, business is slow after all, and it's not as though these cougars tip, no matter how often I hint it. Honestly.

Back to Berry and the break-up. I'm going to deny it. She's delusional, and all those Kit Kats and musicals have gone to her head. I mean, really? Me? With her? Really? She does have some kind of appeal, it may be those knee socks and how sexy she looks in my sweater. I rewind these thoughts in my head, skipping over the musicals, spending too much time on those knee socks, before finally realizing, she broke up with me and she kept my sweater. This is excellent.

I may have to make a trip to her house now, even if it is one in the morning, and she's probably asleep or practicing her voice in the mirror, or buying more gold stars on the Internet. It's for the sweater only, because it's winter in Ohio, and I've been slacking on gym time and I don't want to see her. Not even at one in the morning to see what she's wearing. It also has nothing to do with the fact that her dads are out of town for the weekend. This is business, pure and simple.

I'm cool and collected when I'm ringing her doorbell for ten minutes. I know she's home. I see the living room light on, and I bet she's ignoring me and holding my sweater hostage. Maybe she's making voodoo dolls or satanic burning rituals. After ten minutes, I'm losing patience and I'm getting ready to climb through a window or something, when she opens the door bleary eyed and still in my sweater.

"Hallelujah, Berry. I could have died out here."

She doesn't say anything back, she's just staring at me, like she cannot believe this is happening and it's after one in the morning, and I'm at her door. She's still staring a minute later, and I start to fidget because it is cold outside and she is making no move to let me into her house.

"So, can I come in? It's cold outside and I may or may not be freezing to death. Surely, you can't be that heartless twice in a day. This may or may not top the time when we were kids and you left me outside to freeze."

She rolls her eyes, and she moves aside to let me pass into her hallway, but she still isn't talking, and to be honest, given how frequently her mouth closes, it's freaking me out.

"Take off your shoes," she finally says.

"Kinky, Berry. What item of clothing are you taking off?"

"I'm not taking anything off but since you keep standing there like you plan on staying forever, I don't want you messing up the new carpet or leaving traces of yourself behind. I don't want my dads' to come home and see your muddy footprints all over their new imported carpet."

"I'm not staying long but I'll take off my shoes, anyway. I'd hate to see your life ruined by carpet stains."

"Whatever", she replies, not even bothering to go into one of those soliloquies she loves. "What did you come for, then?"

I roll my eyes at her and her tone. "My sweater."

"I don't have it."

I look at her and blink. Maybe she is more out of it than I assumed. "You're wearing it."

She glances down, and only then do I notice all the tear stains. "Great, Berry. It's dirty."

She doesn't reply, she just takes off the sweater, and I see her lace top, and that skirt, and those damn knee socks again, and I think I'm going to stay a little longer.

"I'll throw it in the laundry for you, it's only going to take about half an hour. Unless you want to come back tomorrow."

"I'll stay. My mom is working a double shift at the hospital and won't be back until Monday, and Christine is spending the weekend at her friend's house so nobody is expecting me anyway. My voice trails off when I realize I'm actually telling her things."

She nods but doesn't ask questions. She settles in on the top of the laundry machine, looking around the room, desperate to make eye contact anywhere but with my eyes. She looks cute on top of that. I wonder if now would be a good time to broach laundry room sex with her. You know, since we didn't have break-up sex.

"So", she says, finally breaking the silence.

"So."

"You could have texted, and I would have brought it to school Monday."

"What if someone saw you holding it? Then, my badassness would be questionable and I'd fall off the top of the social hierarchy. It would be difficult to climb back, especially since I've made matters worse already by slumming with the gleeks lately, and dating their ring leader."

"Get real, she shoots back, ignoring my dating dig. Plenty of people have seen me in this sweater already and you kissing me everywhere."

"Well, not _everywhere_."

She opens her mouth to say something but she closes it, and she looks away again.

"Besides, Berry. It was different then." She raises an eyebrow, and I mutter something about us dating and being official so everything was okay then.

It would have been eight days tomorrow."

"I know."

"Me too."

"So, are you with Finn yet?" I don't want to know but I can't help but ask.

"I mean, I know it's been a couple of hours since you broke up with me and I figured that was enough time for you to weasel your way in with him now that he broke up with Quinn." I ignore the hurt that flashes in her eyes.

"No. There's nothing going on between me and Finn."

I nod. I watch her avoiding me, and I see a strand of loose hair curl its' way around her face, and I lean in to brush it back, going on instinct, back when I kept doing that when she was concentrating on homework and when I was concentrating on her.

She doesn't flinch and my hand settles on her face and she gives me one of those half smiles she used to and I lean in to kiss her, not to start laundry room sex with her, and she jumps when the timer goes off, stepping on my feet in the process.

"Good job, Berry", I laugh as she's laughing into my shirt and I'm holding her and it's like today's scene at the bleachers didn't happen. She stops laughing hard enough to look up at me, and I'm overwhelmed by how tired and sad her eyes look. "Come on, let's get you to bed", grabbing her hand and steering her up to her room.

"You look tired", she says when I put her under the covers. "Can you stay?"

"No."

"Oh."

I look at her and realize there's no better moment for me to stay, and I take off my shirt and climb in with her.

She closes her eyes and I'm staring at her, and this may have not been my best idea but she's gripping my hand, and I'm too tired to move.

The first thing I notice when I open my eyes is a sea of pink, and cotton candy and bubble gum colors splashed across the room. Ah, shit. I spent the night with my crazy ex-girlfriend who's barely talking now and I don't even think we had sex. I have to get out of here before she finds me and realizes she didn't dream the whole thing, and we have a feelings talk about the state of our pseudo relationship.

I glance over at her, and she's small and tiny, she fits perfectly next to me, and I kiss her forehead and crawl out of bed carefully, not to disturb her.

Making my way to the laundry room, I grab my sweater and throw it on. I know it was washed and everything but I'm still disappointed when it doesn't smell like her and that Daisy perfume she wears. I'm just about to make a quick exit out her front door when I glance through the curtains to make sure nobody is around to catch me, and see Finn's truck pull up. Figures that Boy Wonder would make his way over here.

I run back up the stairs, two at a time, throwing off my sweater again, and fall back into bed with Berry, and she opens her eyes, and is looking at me all squinty eyed.

"Where'd you go?"

"To brush my teeth."

"You smell minty. Did you use my toothpaste?"

"Yes."

"Did you use my toothbrush?"

"No."

"With what toothbrush, then?"

"The spare one you always keep underneath your sink in the cabinet next to your feminine products and the Windex."

"What color was it?"

"Green, Berry. Now go back to bed and stop asking so many damn questions."

She shrugs and snuggles back in, and I'm playing with her hair and waiting for the doorbell to ring. This isn't how I imagined spending my Saturday morning, I did have plans to pick up some business and sex today, but I'll be damned if I leave and let her spend the day with Finn and let him weasel his way back to her.


	3. Chapter 3

I open my eyes all over again, and I realize I'm alone in bed and the doorbell never rang. I debate on getting out of bed because really, what if she comes back, maybe she went to brush her teeth like I did earlier. Not that I actually brushed my teeth, I just needed a cover story for why I went missing. I lean back and get comfortable, drowning in blankets and pillows, how many pillows does somebody need anyway, and the minutes tick by before I hear the laughing downstairs, and she's not coming back to bed.

I make my way downstairs, putting my sweater on the way down the stairs, and sure enough, Berry is sitting at the kitchen table while Boy Wonder cooks her breakfast. I spend the night here, and he's the one cooking for her. She doesn't even _like _breakfast, something about protein shakes and missing time on the elliptical. Neither of them pay me any attention until I clear my throat, and she has the decency to look guilty, but I'm pretty sure he's smirking at me, if he knew how to smirk. He's just doing that weird facial expression, the one that makes him look like a tool. I love my best friend but he's never been the brightest bulb in the shed.

"Hey, Puck! I didn't even hear you ring the bell. How'd you get in?" Him and his happy voice are grating on my ears, and giving me that hangover feeling, and I haven't even had a drink yet.

"I didn't have to ring the bell. I spent the night. _Upstairs._" I reply coolly, emphasizing the upstairs and taking _slight _enjoyment at the look on his face, his widening eyes. He's never been very subtle. I walk over to the other side of the room, and prop myself down at the kitchen table next to Berry, who's back to avoiding my gaze. I leaned in to kiss her, and conveniently Finn drops something, a pot or a pan, or the spatula, and she rushes over to help him.

"So, Finn. Shouldn't you be leaving? It's Saturday morning, and I'm sure there's stuff that needs to be done. Like laundry and cleaning. Saturday morning cartoons. Football, studying, learning right from left." I'm sure there's something that needs to be done to get him out of this damn house and away from Berry and from ruining my Saturday morning. This is not what I had in mind when I spent the night. Though, truth be told, spending the night with my ex-girlfriend, albeit Crazy, wasn't on the agenda either, but I am nothing if not flexible.

"I canceled everything this morning. I was really worried about Rachel last night, she wasn't even talking, you know how weird that is for her, to not be even speaking, and I was worried. I thought it'd be best if I spend some time with her. Since we're _friends._" Finn went back to stirring whatever he was mixing and humming something under his breath.

Stupid Finn, and his tones. I didn't even know he knew tones.

Before I could think up some words of protest, and something about friendship and Berry, the Glee Club comes barreling into the kitchen, like a regular Saturday morning at the Berry house, and it takes all of my willpower not to bang my head against the kitchen table.

"Hey guys! I didn't know you knew how to cook, Finn," exclaims Tina, plopping herself down next to me, as Artie wheels his way next to her with Mercedes and Kurt right behind them. Suddenly, they take notice of me at Berry's kitchen table, without Berry anywhere to be found, and they blink. Blink repeatedly, as if this is the first time they've ever seen me. All these waves and chatters surround me, wide stares as though I'm an animal at the zoo, and I make polite conversation as I continue scanning the room for Berry. Sure, she's short but she can't be that short.

"Oh, you know, my mom's always been working a lot, and I've had to learn fast since I can't spend my life on take-out. Breakfast's ready, you guys. Help yourselves." Finn starts serving everyone, and they're all distracted by the food, and all the chewing with the loud talking is bothering me so I make a quick exit to find Berry. I can't believe she left me here with Finn, and everyone, and just bolted.

I scan all the downstairs rooms, even checking the laundry room, and make my way upstairs, checking all the rooms, and I didn't even know a house could hold so many rooms, and I find her on the rebound, coming out of her room. I sneak up behind her, and grab her hands to push her inside. I _just _know she's about to launch into one of her speeches, I knew the silence wouldn't last, so I cover my hand on her mouth until I know she wouldn't say anything. The last thing I need is someone from downstairs overhearing us together and making assumptions.

It's only when I uncover my hand and move slightly back that I realize her hair is dripping wet and she's in a _f__reakin' _towel. She puts her hands on her hips, and her eyes search mine for an explanation.

"Damn, Berry. You look _good._"

"Why are you whispering?"

"All of Glee Club and Finn are downstairs, and I know the minute they'll hear us talking, they'll run up here and we won't have any time to talk, and I won't have any more time to look at you. Naked."

"I'm wearing a towel, and your presence is preventing me from finding suitable attire."

"Don't stop on my account."

I make no move to let her through, and she doesn't put up much of a fight for me to let her pass, if only because I'm sure she doesn't trust me to let that towel stay on, and we're stuck in a standstill. She fidgets uncomfortably, and I open my mouth to speak, but before I get a word in, we're interrupted _again_. This time, it's Finn knocking on her bedroom door. I try not to roll my eyes.

"Hey, Rachel! We're all thinking of going bowling, and grabbing food at that restaurant you like. You know, the one where I took you on that date. Come on downstairs, we're all waiting."

"Just a minute, Finn! I'm getting dressed and I'll be downstairs promptly." He yells back something happy and energetic, and I'm sure everybody in the neighborhood can hear him plowing down the stairs.

"He's lucky he didn't get injured."

Berry stifles a laugh, and motions for me to move over and out so she can get dressed.

"Wait."

She looks at me. She hasn't been saying much to me lately, last night and this morning, which is rare. Normally, she's rattling and prattling on, but it's just the silence between us.

"When did you have time to go on a date with Finn?"


End file.
